"It's when you come home now and again to the empty house you'll be feeling lonely, and wishing you'd some kindly soul to mind you, Mike Gallagher." But my father was not going to allow that he was lonely even then; for he guessed what it would lead to if he did.
"I'm well enough as I am," said he.

"But since you're so lonely, Biddy, why not get yourself a husband ?" She looked up with her little blinking eyes, and was going to speak.
But my father, fairly scared, went on,-- "It's not for me, who'll never marry more, not if I live to a hundred, thank God, to advise the likes of you, Biddy.

But there's many a likely man would be glad of you, and I'd give him my blessings with you.

You need company.

I don't; leastways none better than my pipe and my glass." She turned her face away rather sadly, and sat with her chin on the palm of her hand, blinking into the fire.
"What about the boys ?" she said, not looking up.
"They're rightly," said my father shortly.
She gave a short, grating laugh, and was about to speak again, when there fell a footstep outside, and his honour looked in.
He had come to see father, who was to sail again to-morrow, and was fairly taken aback to see what company we had.
Biddy rose and courtesied.
"The top of the morning to your honour," said she.